


Go fuck yourself.

by Morpheel



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Chair Sex, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nobody knows you better than yourself, Rough Sex, Self-Masturbation, Self-cest, Selfcest, Sloppy Makeouts, Time Travel, Timelines, Tord on Tord action
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheel/pseuds/Morpheel
Summary: In order to fix a fray in the fabric of time where Tom is destined to succumb to eye cancer, Red Leader decides to deliver a special set of blueprints to his younger self in hopes that it prevents his doomed timeline from ever occurring in the first place.Yet when his younger self is in disbelief over his relationship to Thomas, and refuses to take the grave danger seriously? Red Leader takes it upon himself to show Tord the error of his ways.(In other words, Red Leader fucks himself. With lots of plot attached.)





	Go fuck yourself.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I have no clue how I wrote this much for a selfcest fanfiction. I think I started this as a joke but I kind of got out of hand. Expanding on the relationship between Tom and Tord was just irresistible, and next thing I knew I spat out over 5.5k words. Wow.
> 
> Well, enjoy this anyways!

“So, you’re me.”

“A long story cut woefully short- yes. Yes I am.”

“And that means I eventually come into possession, or create, my own time machine?”

“No, quite obviously I merely jumped through a goddamn wormhole through my sheer willpower alone in order to inform you of catalytic events that can alter your timeline forever- yes I made a goddamn time machine.”

“…Sheesh, you really lost your sense of humor, didn’t you.”

“It isn’t the only thing I’ve lost.”

Taking a deep drag of his cigar, Tord’s identical doppleganger exhaled a shaking tone that clearly betrayed the years of abuse that war reigned down upon him. The lines of his face ran deep with scars and age, half of his features shining and mottled to near unrecognizable proportions. Burns, he had said.

Burns that Tord would have no means of avoiding, no matter how many time lines he jumped. Fate has a set thread woven for this particular timeline, as his older self could confirm.

Fate….what a touchy subject.

The duo was sitting within the secret laboratory that lay just underneath his (their) home, the entrance tightly sealed and hidden from wandering eyes under two inconspicuous paintings. Edd always had a strange tendency of worming his way through the smallest of cracks- it was for safety’s sake his dear companion didn’t stumble his way into things that he shouldn’t.

Both had a cigar clutched in their hold, “Red Leader’s” lighter burning the tip of his own stick without the need for tedious match lighting. Without the presence of Naptha to sully the taste of the tobacco, Tord gladly puffed his respective fix to light.

These were a far superior of a brand than the ones he normally used, the taste sweet on his tongue and woodsy in a way that was hard to recreate. “A spoil of war.” Red Leader answered without even having to wait for Tord to ask, already knowing exactly what his younger self would ask.

He had always been predictable, even if his self-confidence refused to admit it at the tender young age his counterpart was.

He flicked the lid of his gold embroidered lighter closed, tucking it away within the confines of his vest as he allowed the weight to settle in with Tord. It was a bit of a shock to have an older version of yourself with a metallic arm and burnt face approaching you in the midst of constructing your automated superweapon. Especially bearing the news that one of his dear friends would be in grave danger without immediate action taken.

“I’m sorry, I just find it hard to believe that me and Tom would be amicable in any timeline, especially to the point of the…intimacy, you’re describing to me.” He said, fingertips drumming along the armrest to the very seat he had planned on installing into his robot shortly.

Already one step ahead of Tord, Red Leader allowed himself to settle against the side of the old desk he could only faintly recall sketching out every blueprint that added to his ever growing arsenal. In fact with mild curiosity he began to scan through the scattered blue papers, studying the plans. He could recall which ones worked and which eventually found their final home in the garbage.

“It’s hard to stay mad at someone forever. Especially when absence makes the heart grow ever fonder. Edd learns this lesson very well shortly after your departure.” He noted, knowing there would be no harm dispensing the information to this Tord.

And even so- despite its fate falling to be a doomed timeline, was it truly criminal to hope for at least one timeline where everything turned out okay? No war, no fighting, no betrayal. Just crazy antics and a deepening friendship with no ulterior motives attached.

Yet the true timeline remained largely stable….except for one detail.

The reason he came in the first place.

“In my timeline, I had incorporated monster DNA within Thomas’s bloodstream that mutated him into a biological weapon far superior to the giant robot. While a robot could not heal itself; Ragnarok could.” He said, only pausing as his eyes landed on the very blueprint of the beast resting on the wall of his chemistry bench.

“And before you go rushing to perfect it right now, do not bother. The ingredient to stabilize it will not be available for another seven years, and will be an adventure to get your hands on. You’ll know when you see it.” He said, fingers tapping along the desk as his head turned back to study the burning curiosity in his younger selves eyes.

When silence greeted him, he took it as a polite offer to continue. So continue he did.

“I had reckoned the hybrid was indestructible to anything but explosives and blood loss. I was….incorrect.” Red Leader disclosed past the swelling lump in the back of his throat, swallowing unsteadily as he felt grief rising up once more.

He took a moment to collect himself, merely shaking it off as a calculated lapse in his story. “There is a frayed fiber in this timeline; a slivered piece to this weave that could branch off and lead to an ultimate dead end. It is rare, but alas, with something as complicated as time it is only to be expected. While the timeline is determined to correct certain events and always keep the smooth length on tract no matter what may happen, other things can slip through its tight grasp. Thomas was one of those things.”

“Well….are you going to tell me what happened?” Tord asked, clearly no-nonsense and growing more disbelieving by the second. Leave it to his younger self to be cynical about everything.

Drawing a deep breath before releasing it in a puff of smoke, Red Leader allowed his head to fall back as the irony of it all still haunted him to this day. A biological superweapon capable of generating mass amounts of cells at once succumbing to…

“Eye cancer.”

Oh yes, the irony of it all.

Yet instead of the sympathy that one of his dopplegangers should have shown for the event, a grating laugh pierced his ears and shot deep through his already frayed nerves. His head turned to the way that his younger self clutched at his stomach, pale cheeks flushed with color as he made move to wipe away a non-existing tear.

“Really? Out of all the things to kill that complete moron, it’s eye cancer? Not his own complete stupidity? Man! I would have put money on alcohol poisoning and liver failure over **eye cancer!** ” Tord had rasped, the ashes of his cigar falling from the way his shoulder and body wracked from amusement.

But Red Leader was not laughing, and it showed in the hard expression that graced his already stone cold features. Pulling out a single rolled up blue paper, he slammed it down onto the table to rekindle his past selve’s attention. “Laugh all you want now- but you won’t be laughing when you realize how necessary this blueprint is here to avoid the frayed branch in the timeline.”

Finally managing to reel himself back in, Tord let his hands fall to rest on his lap with an inquisitive smile. “No, no. I understand that Thomas could be important to the timeline, sure. But the levels of intimacy you describe him with is just. Entertaining to me. A branch of me? Finding someone like TOM attractive? It’s all undoubtedly hilarious. Most definitely a frayed branch in the timeline for sure.” He noted, as if Red Leader had lost nearly all credibility to his claims just with the disclosure Tom and him were more than simply platonic.

It was more frustrating than Red Leader wanted to admit.

That smug smile, the air of superiority that hovered above the inexperience dolt like a particularly pungent cloud- all of it had Red Leader on the verge of beating the very ever loving shit out of himself. No wonder people had viewed him as arrogant and stuck-up.

“I mean, let’s face it.” Tord continued despite the noticeably tense jaw of his older self. “I’m not even gay. I’ve never thought of a man like that before- and even if I did, Thomas would be the farthest contender on the list.” He said, waving his cigar around like it was some prop for display.

Was he always this punchable? Fuck, Red didn’t want to find out now. So instead he gingerly placed down the metal endoskeleton piece he was messing with back onto the table, bootsteps heavy and clanking as he stepped around the room towards Tord. His movements were precise and practiced, in a way that only the military could beat into you. A tactile predator.

“Let me be the first to assure you- you are not gay, but you certainly aren’t straight. And please do not lie to yourself. That’s a level of denial that would be pathetic on anyone.” He noted, his one working eye bearing deep into Tord’s steadily-growing anxious ones.

He paused before the seat that Tord was perched upon, eyes never leaving him as his arm reached forward into the man’s personal space. Was it considered masochistic or sadistic that he enjoyed the way his younger self seemed to crumple in on himself? Tord flinched as the butt of Red Leader’s cigar ground into the seat’s ashtray, clearly tense as his eyes wracked over Red’s impressive stature.

He was tall, he was buff, and he was rugged in a way that only war and damage could make you.

“But…It just doesn’t make sense, is all.” Tord ventured to say once more, from the depths of his throat, clearly nervous as his eyes darted down to the metallic weapon that extended as an arm. It was resting so innocently on the handrail beside him, so close to where his knee leaned against the seat.

He couldn’t say there wasn’t a subtle twitch of excitement within him at the thought.

“I think you’re stuck in denial. You’ve always been stubborn to a fault. Military beats that right out of you.” he noted, his organic fingers moving forward to grip Tord’s chin and tilt his head up to once again hold proper eye contact with himself. “But you still don’t believe me, do you?”

No response.

Red Leader chuckled, resigned to his fate of knowing exactly what it was that he needed to do. So with the hand on Tord’s chin tilting his head up just the slightest bit farther, he placed his own scarred lips against the agape plush of his counterpart.

He was soft in all the ways that Red Leader was not, so untouched from the horrors that await him in the future. There was something so dizzying about kissing yourself that Red swore he’d never grow used to the sensation. It was like electricity between them, feeling the way his younger self gasped into a deeper kiss.

They tasted of the same cigar, the same essence- no doubt this was a heaven buried deep into an awful hell. Even when Red Leader attempted to move back it was clear his past self wasn’t so keen on letting him go, melting into the first kiss he would ever experience with a man. Even if said man was himself.

Before he knew it he found himself leaning over the tilting chair. Their mouths mashed together with a desperation that Tord never knew he had, arms flying around Red’s neck as his knee splayed open without consciously realizing so.

He let out the softest of breath when  Red easily stepped into the offered space, his own knee resting on the edge of the chair and grinding into Tord’s groin. Moaning into the kiss, Tord pressed his hips forward in order to gain much needed friction on his steadily stirring member. Their kisses were wet and sloppy, more open mouthed than organized and precise like earlier.

It was almost cute how excited his past-self became from the slightest sensations, his knee moving further up just to see Tord buckle forward with a soft whimper. His lashes fluttered up as the kiss was broken by the action, allowing his shoulder to be cradled in the metallic of Red’s palm. He rubbed over the tense muscles, drawing another slow groan from Tord.

“Fuck.” Was the first thing that was said after the kiss, clearly delirious with the suddenness  of the event. Tord leaned back in order to catch his breath, hardly able to muster the shame over the prominent bulge tenting in his black jeans. Red Leader appraised it with professional detachment, his metallic hand sliding down the expanse of his chest and feeling how under-developed his past self truly was.

No muscle, loose stomach, thin legs- he had a lot of work to do in order to reach where Red Leader was now.

Yet a physical examination was the farthest thing from Red’s mind, his hand instead coming down to grip Tord firmly in his hand. He could feel the throbbing pulse of his cock through the thick fabric of his jeans, only applying a bit of pressure when it appeared that Tord would implode otherwise. He was very aware of how quickly he preferred his sex to go when he was younger- but patience was a virtue, and one that his younger counterpart needed to learn.

So he only palmed with the heel of his hand, refusing to move up or down, just massaging the growing tent pitching his jeans up. And god, did Red Leader get some beautiful reactions from such.

Tord’s head was thrown back as he gripped the edges of the chair tightly, Red’s knee moved in favor of cupping his entire cock in hand and rubbing it between talented fingers and palms. He swore he could get off with stimulation as simple as this if he put his mind to it- yet something quickly caught him by surprise.

And that was the sudden feeling of buzzing shaking Tord’s perception.

Red Leader’s palm was buzzing with deep vibrations that stimulated every inch that it touched, shaking through his cock and leaving him nearly breathless from pleasure as he threw his head back to shout for more.

“God- God fucking DAMNIT. G-Get my pants off already and show me what you can do!” he said, tone snappy and demanding as he tried to fumble for his own fly in the process. Clicking his tongue, Red pulled his palm back and left a bonelessly disappointed heap in his wake.

“I don’t recall hearing a please.” he had sung in response, fingers moving up his thigh in a walking manner. So that was his older selves’ angle. A power play, with the older and more experienced coming out on top. It was classic in its own regard, even as his ego begged him to bite his tongue.

“I aint begging, and you know it. I recommend getting that out of my face.” He hissed in barely concealed annoyance- until a single buzzing finger rested on the budding wet spot where his pre dripped into his boxers, only pausing when he dragged the finger to the fly of Tord’s jeans.

“Fine. But I already know you won’t be able to keep quiet either.” He muttered, voice low and husky as he pulled open the button and watched as the other hesitantly lifted his lips to allow him removal.

He tossed the black fabric aside in order to study his dull red boxers, indeed sporting a wet mark and an undeniable boner peeking through. Red Leader couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight. “You know, ignoring the awkward implications that fucking yourself carries, is it really so wrong? Nobody knows you better than yourself.” Red Leader noted, his palm once more resting itself against the bulge in Tord’s boxers.

He rubbed himself in the way he knew he was partial to when masturbating, watching the way that Tord’s head flew from side to side as the vibrations were clearly getting to him. After a tender moment where Red Leader knew his past self was on the verge of orgasm…his fingers slid downwards. He cupped his balls on the way down, rolling them over his thumb to watch Tom squirm- before finally he was pressing two fingers against where his entrance lay.

The way his past selves back arched was undeniably gorgeous, Tord’s hands throwing back to grip the head of the chair as subtly he began to grind his hips against the sensation. A quiet mantra of “fucks” were slipping past his lips unnoticed, only increasing in volume when Red Leader pressed harder against the spot.

He only stopped to fish through his coat, eyes never leaving Tord the entire time. “Take off your boxers.” He commanded, voice husky and lacking any real patience as he pulled out a small packet of lube from the inner reaches of his pocket. That had caught Tord’s attention as he paused in squirming his boxers down from his hips. “Wow. That’s kinky.” He noted, small grin appearing from the knowledge that he would always carry lube on him.

“Like I said before, me and Thomas were quite intimate, and it was always a wildcard when the mood would strike between us. It’s easier to always keep some on hand.” Red explained, before biting into the wrapper and staring down with unabashed hunger when Tord’s boxers were tossed to the side.

Once more he was settling back into the chair, a knee hooking itself over the edge to showcase every inch of himself to the older man. Tord burned with a combination of shame, arousal, and contemplation. Was his first time actually going to be with himself? Would it be considered masturbation?

He didn’t get long to think before two lubed fingers were rubbing across the rim of his hole, Tord having to muffle a slow groan as his head tilted back into the chair. Despite the way they hadn’t yet breached him, Tord felt the flutter of his arousal pausing in nervous anticipation. Would the fingers hurt? How would he stretch himself open? Would he have to worry about…nasty side effects, despite recently using the bathroom?

All of those concerns were put on the backburner when the first of the robotic fingers pressed inside of him, the gentle whirr of machinery dulled inside of him. It felt strange in a way that he assumed organic fingers would not- it was flexible but it did not give like flesh and blood would. Yet it stretched him open so well, reaching and poking about in order to coax his muscles into ease.

It was only when the second finger was added did Tord get more vocal, the stretch and burn nothing to when he felt those fingers sliding up along his inner walls until finding exactly what Red Leader wanted. He knew exactly where his prostate was on the first try- so it was endlessly satisfying to see his own expression discovering that pleasure for the first time.

This was the final catalyst for Tord’s pride as his mouth parted open into a short cry, head thrown back in delight as his legs splayed completely open. From there it was too easy to add a third and fourth finger, always going back to the bundle of nerves that had his cock leaking pre onto the fabric of his old red hoodie.

When four managed to fit with plenty of wiggling room was when Red Leader pulled back, hand instantly flying down to his trousers beneath the part of his jacket. It took a few tries with the belt buckle, but eventually he managed to free himself from the confines of the pants in order to stroke his lubed palm in slow circles over the head of his cock.

God, he loved the way that Tord’s eyes followed his every movement, clearly studying the increased size that was nearly obscenely bigger in a manner that certainly wasn’t natural. Younger Tord was already an adult and presumably fully sized- yet it was clear he was enraptured by his older self. “Oh…my god. Do I really get that big?” he asked, anxiety laced in his tone. Would four fingers be enough?

At least Red had the humor to laugh as he moved back into Tord’s personal bubble, his palm lifting under his knee to part his legs once more and pull him just a bit closer to the edge of the chair. From here it was easy to grind forward, sliding between the cleft of his ass and letting the swell of his cock rest against him. “Naturally? No. But if we can craft a giant robot on a limited budget, and a serum that can shift human DNA and bodies into monstrous proportions…What makes you think a little dick science is impossible?”

Tord didn’t know whether to be proud or ashamed of himself right now. On one hand, his cock looked like something straight out of his hentai- a thick tip and long shaft that looked so obscenely perfect. Of course he would do that- it occurred as a thought to him many many times.

But when he felt the head sliding up comfortably between his cheeks to his puffy hole? His opinion quickly changed. This man was a monster in his own regards- it would never fit! Just before he was able to push Red Leader away-?

His head threw back in shock when it seemed his older self left no room to back out. The chair supported his weight as he threw back in surprise, leg hitched higher as Red Leader’s other palm reached between them to grip at the flushed head of his cock. The sheer combinations of sensations as he was jerked off only paled the stretch and faint burn of his own cock stretching him open; his mouth fell open into a wordless cry as his silver eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“Stick your tongue out.” Red asked suddenly, his one good eye hazed over in a lust as he studied his own expression pulled into the most gorgeous ahegao face he has ever seen. It only drove him to buck his hips deeper with each passing stroke of his cock, hand hitching in motions as Tord followed his orders through. He was shivering under the intense gaze of this dangerous man. The very same man he would grow to become.

God he was fucked up.

It was when the hilt was firmly nestled inside of him that Tord finally managed to slump back against the chair, his chest rising and falling in slow breaths as his head was left pleasantly on cloud nine. Given but a mere moment to adjust, Tord found his arms wrapping around broad shoulders to claw on tight to the expensive jacket as the first thrust had the unstable chair rocking back with them.

Just the electricity of pleasure that ripped through him had the first truly vocal noise leaving Tord, his face moving to bury in Red’s shoulder as he tried to adjust to the strange sensation of bottoming. His breath was in shallow pants that matched the steadily building pace that Red was setting, toes curling within his socks as he felt wandering hands lifting to the small bump of his hips.

Gripping the flesh there beneath his palms, Red pulled Tord just enough forward to give him the hint that he wanted the man to move. “Here-, I know what would make it feel even better.” He offered, before Tord allowed himself to be moved and adjusted. His leg was turned to rest on the armrest while his body turned around inside of it, slumped over the edge with his ass pushed out towards Red once more.

Smooth hands ran over the divots of his back before gripping his hips once more, using the new angle to easily slide inside of Tord without having to strain his aching knees anymore.

And oh god, was it an amazing call.

Tord was screaming as the pace came so much faster now, Red’s built up core allowing for harsh and quick thrusts without tiring. Endurance training really paid off when it came to sex- even if his lungs would never be quite up to par from the constant smoking that he did.

Still made for pretty damn good sex as he watched tears nearly blossom in Tord’s eyes as he knew each thrust nailed him directly into his younger selves’ prostate. They were both quickly coming undone from the relentless pace, Tord’s hips angling back ever so to push against each thrust in retribution. His cock was drooling precum onto the nice seat below him, thighs trembling to keep himself up as his knee nearly slipped off of the armrest multiple times.

“I’m close- oh my god, I’m so close.” He whined, head tilting back in overwhelming pleasure as the words spurred Red Leader to go even faster. Tord had been under the impression that Red had already **been** going as fast as he could before. That was nothing to when they were clearly right at the edge of orgasm, pace abandoned in favor of a primal fucking that Tord could hardly take.

His nails raked lines into the chair, his noises reaching a frenzied pitch- until warmth began to blossom in his ass as Red Leader hunched tight over him and paused with his cock buried to the hilt. He was twitching as spurts of warm cum lined the walls of his hole, pulling back just enough to where the last strand was superficial to the entrance.

It made for a good show when he pulled out just long enough to watch a wet glob of white bubble from his own hole, younger self twitching as just moments before he had spilled his own seed over the chair’s back.

Tord’s breath was labored into short gasps as he subtly moved his hips back, the cum feeling so strange cooling on his skin as each twitch seemed to push more of the milky white from his entrance. His thighs shook as he turned over into the chair, not a fuck given as he basked in his afterglow resting in the spunk of both him and his older self. Technically it was both his anyways- who cared?

A moment of silence stretched between them where twin gazes studied each other’s faces, no outward emotion betrayed…until Red Leader smiled and pulled a small tissue from the ever so elusive inner pockets of his jacket. He offered it to Tord, who graciously accepted to begin wiping along his messy entrance. He was still drooling the last traces of cum against the chair- which he only lazily wiped up for now. He’d get back to it later.

“So..” Red Leader began, catching Tord’s attention as he tossed the tissue aside with little care where it landed.

“Do you still think you’re straight?

  * \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - --  - -



Despite everything that had occurred between them, conversation remained simple and light as Red Leader pulled out the initial time machine prototype (once more from his fucking coat. How much storage was inside of that thing?)

Regardless, it was with that final warning that his older self regrettably had to return to his own doomed timeline or risk total eradication from his lingering influence on a strand that was not his own. His parting words were simple, placing so much emphasis on completing the goggles as quickly as possible.

Despite his recently enlightened sexuality, Tord had very high doubts about ever finding Thomas attractive in the sense that he would grow intimate with the man over time. But after that very hands-on warning, it was clear that Red Leader didn’t go through the trouble of warping here for nothing.

There was a reason he would jump dimensions, and it wasn’t just for a quick fuck.

So with resignation Tord fell into the much cleaner chair of his desk, studying the components of the glasses that would mend with the venous system and nerves in the wearer’s face. It would be a feat of modern engineering, constructing goggles that would specifically work to put the progressing cancer into stasis and pause the irreparable damage to both Ragnarok and Thomas’s vision.

They would be his eyes, in a sense, and the blueprint was so advanced in scientific achievement Tord nearly didn’t know where to start. But with a final clasp onto his shoulder, Red Leader was smiling down at him with something akin to fondness. “It appears complicated for now, but I know myself, and therefore I know you’ll be able to do it within three years. You have ten, before the cancer would begin to take his life. I’m counting on you to right the wrongs of the timeline, Tord.” He said, the name so unfamiliar to Red Leader’s tongue after years of being among those who would only refer to him as his title.

It was easier to keep the personal name to his younger self- still so bright eyed and innocent- with everything to lose but a tendency of self-destruction that seals his own fate.

He pulled back when Tord’s expression dipped into thoughtful silence, once more turning to study the blueprints with his eyebrows pitched together. It was clear there was nothing more to say between them, not when everything was finally falling into place within Tord’s head.

So after imputing the coding to his own timeline once more, Red Leader disappeared from the universe, content with the work that he had done. While his own timeline would eventually rot away and end with his own death, this new thread should keep spanning forward evermore into the future and beyond.

-

\- - -

-

The sound of footsteps were muffled by the noise of a dull fan spinning within the shabby base of a Green Resistance outpost- the guard of the small outlook hardly even paying attention enough to detect them in the first place.

His attention was locked on a video feed of outside surveillance, boredom clear in his expression as he clicked through the cameras. It was easy to duck behind a crate within the very office the man resided in, LED eyes turning around the box to study the slouched posture of the watchman.

Data flew before the screen as it studied the man for weak points, delivering a constant stream of information about where to slice or the most detrimental place to shoot in order to ensure a silent kill.

When the pointer auto locked onto the side of the man’s neck, the skin of the spy’s hands began to grow blacker and blacker as the bone structure shifted into something truly monstrous. A large claw sat in the place where a hand once stood, flexing the bones subtly in order to test their give.

A gun would be too loud and alert the base to his presence.

All it took was a quick slice, and the arterial spray covered the monitors before the man could even hope to scream in response. His vocal chords were sliced in the same motion, resulting in a sick wheezing sound being the final death throes of the sentry.

Kicking the man from the seat, it was too easy to pull the thin chord of the goggles into the computer, instantly beginning the process of decrypting the data and implanting it directly into memory. At the same time a copy was being sent to the spy’s leader himself- before the machine he had been attached to began to spark and fray after the data had been copied.

A single Red Logo flickered onto each screen of the computer, leaving the base’s electrical system in haywire as the Red Virus spread through the electronics of the base.

When the damage was done, the spy rose up from the seat, stretching the lines of his fitted blue suit as he did so. A single hand flew to the communications button on his headset, a soft british accent cutting through the quiet of the room.

“Mission accomplished, Red Leader.”

Silence greeted him at first, before a rumbling laugh rose from the headphone  tucked within his ear. There was a fondness to his leader’s tone that had the softest smile grace his features, LED eyes moving from the discarded body to the exit of the base where he could already hear a helicopter waiting for him.

“Very good, Thomas. Your rendezvous should be right outside. I’m very proud of you for accomplishing this mission so quickly.”

There was a pause on the other end, before the changing pitch of his lover had a subtle shiver running down Tom’s spine as he made his way out through the doors he had adamantly snuck around to avoid detection.

“I have a reward waiting for you at home, for how efficiently you handled this matter. I look forward to seeing you, my little sharpshooter.”

“Same to you, sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope ya'll liked it as much as I liked writing it lmao.


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